3027
by ragsweas
Summary: A thousand years after Voldemort's fall, tings are all right in the world. But then appears the Dark Witch. A prophecy is made yet again. How can Harry Potter the third, with the help of a certain Uncle Evans who runs a cafe, defeat this witch? And again, who is Uncle Evans? Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. It belongs to JK and WB studios.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own it.**

* * *

"Hello Uncle Evans!"

Green eyes shot up to meet a pair of hazel eyes. Uncle Evans, as he was called, smiled as he saw the face he had seen a million times. Dark brown messy hair, hazel eyes and a signature smirk. It was none other than Harry Potter the third.

"Hello Harry." Uncle Evans greeted back. Harry leaned on the counter and looked up. Uncle Evans cleaned the glasses and asked, "The same as always, I am assuming?"

"No." running a hand through his hair, Harry said, "I would like two special butterbeer of yours, a huge pizza and all of those real."

"Not virtual?" Uncle Evans was impressed. "I thought you were one of the health freaks."

Harry laughed and said, "I am, Uncle Evans. It's just that," he lowered his voice, "I am on a date with a person who is not."

Uncle Evans chuckled and said, "It'll take around half-an-hour lad."

Harry winked, "I know. I have to take her sight-seeing. We'll be back within an hour."

Saying so, Harry left, leaving Uncle Evans to prepare the order.

* * *

It was 3027, about a thousand years after the defeat of Voldemort. Technology had strived and magic had depleted. Wizards still carried a wand for the small spells they knew, but it wasn't very often that it happened. Muggles and Wizards were well-aware of each other's existence, but nobody said any word. Hogwarts was still deemed the safest place, but not thanks to magic. Ministry was still very corrupt. And the old families which had been together after the downfall of Voldemort, had all scattered.

Uncle Evans' café was a small place in London, near the Leaky Cauldron. It was run by, of course, Uncle Evans'. Both muggles and wizards were fascinated by the shop. For it moved with the world.

Nobody knew for how long the café has been there. Everyone alive now says that the place was there even when their grandparents went out. People had asked Uncle Evans how old he was. He had chuckled and said, "About a thousand and something." Of course, nobody had believed him.

The world was relatively safer. No more threats of dark Lords, or any such nonsense. But then, one appeared.

She was worse than Riddle. Learned with magic forgotten long ago, she had enough followers and power to shake the world. When she had first appeared, Uncle Evans' had said, "Beware of her, for she is not a normal witch."

People had shaken his claims away.

Now, she was a rising terror. The Dark Witch, as she likes to call herself, never attacked in the open. But whenever something happened, people knew it was her.

* * *

"This is getting preposterous!" The Minister by the name of Solace, said. "We have everything under control. It is just a matter of time before we can capture her."

One side of the Wizards and Witches began shouting, staring a match between the two sides.

"Enough!" Everybody fell silent at the call of Chief Warlock Potter. He turned to the minister and said, "Minister, The Dark Witch is a terror that is not being able to be handled by us. She is far too quick, far too learned for us to capture her. What we need is a person who is as knowledgeable as her."

"And who do you have in mind Mr Potter?" came a voice from the crowd. Potter turned to see his cousin, another Potter asking this.

"Uncle Evans."

Again shouts broke into the chamber. As Minister and the Wizengamot finally shushed everyone, Minister turned to Potter and asked, "Have you lost your mind Potter? Uncle Evans? A café owner?"

"But Minister, he has been around for longer than we all know. My grandfather knew him. He is one of the oldest men we know and if anyone, he could help us."

The shouts increased after that. The Wizengamot ended with no satisfaction.

* * *

"Ah, senior Potter. Henry, isn't it?"

Henry Potter smiled as Uncle Evans recognized him. It was magic that this old man recognized everyone. Honestly, how do you keep tab of every person who walks in?

"Hello Uncle Evans." Henry greeted back.

"You just missed your son." Uncle Evans said, gesturing towards the door.

Henry shook his head and said, "I have come to talk to you."

Uncle Evans raised an eyebrow from behind his round glasses.

"It's about the Dark Witch." Henry whispered.

Uncle Evans' face turned from jolly to serious in matter of seconds.

"How can I help you?" he asked in a grave voice.

"Can we talk somewhere private?"

Uncle Evans' waved his wand and two or three people who were in the café took their food and left. The curtains drew and the sign turned to 'close'. Uncle Evans walked around the counter and lead Henry to a table of two. Summoning two coffees, He turned to Henry.

"What is it son?"

Henry took a deep breath and said, "There's a prophecy about my son. Of course, nobody believes in them anymore, but we Potters know better."

Uncle Evans nodded.

"It goes something like this, ' _carrier of a great name, born to a long line of heroes, will join the long distant families. Mentored by the legend, he will defeat the rising threat and bring the peace long forgotten by many.'_ A small but very…different prophecy."

"So, by carrier of the great name, you are guessing it is Harry?"

"Harry Potter, uncle. I searched for this in the Hall of prophecies. It had his name. And the Dark Witch." Henry sighed. "Nobody would believe me. Not even my own wife. But Harry is naïve. He can't stand against the Witch we have not been able to defeat. I want to be sure that he will manage."

"What do you want me to do?" Uncle Evans asked.

"You do know that I know who you are right? I mean, the truth had been passing through generations of this Potter line."

"This Potter line?" Uncle Evans raised an eyebrow.

Henry sighed. "The other Potters do not believe us. They think we are backward."

Uncle Evans took a deep breath. "Henry, the prophecy says mentored by a legend. It could be anyone."

"But you are not just anyone!" Henry shouted. He looked around and then took deep breaths. "You yourself have had great guidance. Please, i am sure the legend is you."

"If anything Henry," Uncle Evans added gravely, "I try not to be involved wit the outer world anymore Henry. When is the last time you have seen me out of this place?"

"But please Uncle Evans, please help my son. You are my only hope!" Henry closed his eyes and almost began sobbing. Controlling himself, he and added, "I am next on the Dark Witch's list. I know she is coming after me and my wife. Harry is our only son. All I want is for him to be safe and sound and ready for whatever is to come. Please."

Uncle Evans was deep in thought. Henry looked for any indication, for a flicker of emotion, but none came. Finally, he nodded and said, "Fine. But you'll have to tell him who I am."

"Consider it done."

* * *

Three days later, on a pretty gloomy day, Harry Potter walked in Uncle Evans' café. Uncle Evans was about to greet him when he saw the boy's heartbroken face. Concerned, Uncle Evans' left the counter and went to him. Placing a hand on the young man' shoulder, he asked, "What's wrong lad?"

"She killed my parents." He whispered. "I am going to kill that woman."

Uncle Evans' looked into Harry's eyes and saw guilt, rage, fear-everything he himself once feared.

"Dad told me to come to you. So I am here."

Uncle Evans' patted the young man on his shoulder and said, "We have a lot to talk about."

* * *

' **ello readers! How do you feel about another story. Right now, I am in a place where I do want to continue any of my stories. I know, but please, I am in a bad position in real life.**

 **Meanwhile, what do you think? Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

When Harry woke, he wasn't sure where he was. Instead of his watch greeting him good morning and listing out the day's work, he saw a large canopy over his bed. He rubbed his eyes and saw that it was red and gold. Where was he exactly?

Harry sat up and looked around. It was a huge room, with a bedside table, desk, cupboard and two doors, one leading out and another to bathroom. The problem was, Harry hadn't seen this place before.

He climbed out of the bed and went up to the cupboard. It didn't open.

'Do I have to do everything manually?' he thought and irritated, opened it to take out a pair of clothes. The memories of the last day came rushing back to him. Harry crashed to the floor, unaware as to what to do. What could he do? His parents were dead.

He had gone to Uncle Evans and he had coaxed him. Maybe that's when e fell asleep. Maybe this was Uncle Evans' home.

But it did not help him feel better. Harry crashed down on the floor and gazed away. Never again would his father tell him tales about how Quidditch was played ages ago, never again would his mother pester him to change his clothes. Never again will they sit down to have dinner together and discuss the other Potters. Never again.

Harry's attention was brought back to the present as he heard one of the doors open. He looked up to see everything hazy. Harry rubbed his eyes. He hadn't realized he had been crying.

"Hello Harry."

Harry looked up to see Uncle Evans smiling down at him and carrying a tray.

"I don't want to eat."

It wasn't exactly polite, but Harry didn't care. He turned his gaze away, thinking about his family that he would never have again.

"Harry, look at me son."

Harry turned to see Uncle Evans sitting in front of him, the tray lying at a distance. His eyes, the mesmerizing emerald eyes were not filed with pity as he had imagined, but instead understanding.

"You father came to me some days ago." He said. "He knew this was going happen."

"He knew?" Harry couldn't believe it. His Dad knew this was going to happen and didn't tell him?

Uncle Evans' nodded solemnly. "He asked me to take care of you. Tell me Harry, did he tell you anything about me?"

Harry shook his head. His father's last words were, precisely, "If anything goes wrong Harry, go to Uncle Evans. He will explain everything."

"Then we have a lot to talk about Son." Uncle Evans said solemnly. He pushed the tray towards Harry and said, "Eat and rest. We will talk tonight. I need to get back."

* * *

Harry couldn't rest. He became so restless that he had no idea what to do. Finally, he decided to explore the place to get his mind off things.

Uncle Evans' house was far too big. Even Potter Manor looked like a baby in front of this place. When he looked out of the window, Harry realized the place was just behind Uncle Evans' Café. But he had never seen it before, and judging by the height, he must be on the second floor. How a place so big could be hidden?

Harry began to aimlessly walk through the hallways. There were long corridors filled with locked doors. The furniture looked antique, as if it was from the 21st century. Some even looked like they were from 14th century. There were no switches around the place. It was as if he was the only one who was living there.

He finally came across the Living room. A huge table with about a fifty chairs adorned the place. And on the walls were various empty frames.

"And who must you be?"

Harry looked around to see a living person, but saw none. However, he did see a man's portrait, much like himself if you didn't count the round spectacles like Uncle Evans, appearing out of nowhere on one of the frames.

"Are you a program?" asked Harry.

The man looked offended. "A program?" he spat. "You are a fool! I am James Potter, only the best prankster in history!"

"Potter?" Harry looked at the man. Well, he did look like a Potter. But this was weird-there were no suc things as talking portraits in 3027. There were virtual memories and 3D people.

"Yes!" the man exclaimed. "And who are you? I haven't seen you before! Harry doesn't bring visitors her anymore."

"Harry? Excuse me, I am Harry."

The man, James looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow and then laughed. "I can identify my son anywhere and he is not as young as you are, nor does he have hazel eyes like and he definitely wears glasses."

"But I am Harry!" Harry protested. "Harry Potter the third!"

"The third you say?" said James. "Oh, you must be Henry's kid."

Harry gently pressed his lips together. With tears in his eyes, he looked up at the speaking portrait and smiled. "Yeah, I am Henry Potter's son."

James understood that this was a sore spot and let the topic go. "So, Harry the third, what are you doing in the Potter Manor?"

"Now I know you are lying!" said Harry. "This isn't Potter Manor! Potter Manor is in the countryside!"

"That's the summer house!" exclaimed James. "This is the original Potter Manor!"

"No it isn't!" Harry pressed. How foolish was he, fighting with a portrait?"

"Any problem Grandpa?"

Both Harry and James turned to see A James look alike walk in the frame.

"And now who are you?" demanded Harry, folding his hands.

"James." Said the 18 year old.

"No e is James." Said Harry, pointing at the older man.

"Well, yes I am James." Said James. "But this is James as well. James Sirius Potter, my grandson!"

Harry looked at the man, confused. Well, yes names were repeated in his family, but not so quickly!

"Who is this?"

Harry now turned to see a handsome man with long hair come into the frame. "Looks like you Prongs."

"I know Padfoot!" said elder James. "This is Harry Potter the third."

Harry froze. He looked at elder James, then at the new man, and then back at elder James.

"Wait, what did you call him?" he asked.

"Padfoot." James the elder answered.

"As in 'Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs' Padfoot?" asked Harry. He had nicked the map from Hogwarts caretaker Smith's office, labeled under highly dangerous. It was a true piece of Magic and technology-it showed whole Hogwarts. It worked even better than GPS and showed physical representation of a person. Like his predecessors, he left is in Hogwarts for the next generation trouble makers to find it.

"You found the map?" the three figures asked excitedly. Harry nodded.

"Are you up to any good?" asked James the younger with a wink.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good!" exclaimed Harry, laughing. I can't believe I am meeting you! Can I meet Moony and Wormtail as well?"

"Well" said the elder James. "We don't talk about Wormtail he was a traitor, Instead, we have Messer Hinny. He likes that name for various reasons." He turned to the man who had just come and said, "Get Messers Moony and Hinny, will you Siri?"

"Of course Jamie!" the man mock saluted and walked out of the frame. Harry excitedly turned to James the younger to see him looking confused.

"What?" asked Harry.

"What did you say your father's name was?"

Harry's excitement dimmed. He took a deep breath and said, "Henry."

"SO you are my descendant!" exclaimed James the younger. Harry was confused, and he was about to ask what it meant when he heard Uncle Evans.

"What are you doing to Harry, James?" he said, and Harry turned to see him standing at the door. "And Dad, you too?"

"If it isn't my son!" James the senior exclaimed, causing Uncle Evans to roll his eyes.

"Your name is Harry Evans?" asked Harry.

"No! His name is Harry Potter!" said James the elder. "The savior of the wizarding world, the Chosen one, the owner of Deathly Hallows, the one who cannot be defeated, isn't it son?"

Harry slowly turned to look at Uncle Evans. Harry Potter. The man he had heard stories about. The man who had vanquished the Dark Lord ages ago to start a new age. Wasn't he supposed to be like dead?"

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Harry blurted out, causing the old man to smile.

"Yes he is!" Harry heard a woman exclaim. He turned to the frame left to him to see a Red head coming in, furious. "He was supposed to be dead years ago! But damn, he is a good dueler!"

"Ginny," said Uncle Evans, "I swear I am sorry. And Dad, you know i hate those titles."

Harry looked at Uncle Evans, and then at the portraits, then again at Uncle Evans and then he fainted.


End file.
